highlyeccentric | The Note from God

One night I came home and
there was a note on the kitchen table
from God. I knew it had to be him
because I live alone, and the cleaner
was not due till next week. It was the same
cheery sort of note the cleaner leaves, and
he, too, had not realised my novelty pen
that looks like a stick
was actually a pen, not a stick, and had thought he had to write
with the green ink from the four-colour-pen
in which all the other inks have run out
(you could see on the corner of the pad
he had tested the blue and black first).
The note said,

Hi, it's me.
The light on the landing's out.
It's me who keeps leaving those dishes in the sink overnight.
Sorry about that thing with your stepdad.
Okay, I think that's everything.
- G

So that was that.

At first I admit I struggled
that he just called it
that thing with your stepdad.

Later I tried to decide
if anything had changed.
Was the tower of livid storm front
rolling in across the bay
more lovely than it would have been before?
More terrible?

To be sure, there were still
just as many dishes in the sink.

The woman from the real estate
never called me back, so in the end I just
got on the ladder
and changed the bulb myself, supposing
I did not really need her,
or God, or anyone
for that one.